A Scary Moment

On Tuesdays, a bulldozer comes by our house and picks up trash, yard debris, etc (whatever crazy stuff people want to leave on the side of the road). Recently, for unknown reasons, they skipped a week. So our neighbor's remodeling trash remained on the curb for over a week.

Mac became a little obsessed. He constantly talked about when the bulldozer would come. On every walk in the neighborhood, we had to look for it. Every time we got in the car we had talk about where it might be. I think we must have discussed the possible whereabouts of the bulldozer a dozen times a day--no exaggeration.

Earlier this week, Mac visited a new park, one which was a little less "secure" than our neighborhood park. (By this I mean there were multiple entrances/exits...or in other words: he could escape more easily.)

While he was playing in the sand, I was standing some distance away with Arden. A bulldozer came down the street. It made its way slowly, closer and closer to the park. I wish words could describe the look of utter rapture and delight that came upon Mac's face when it dawned on him: A BULLDOZER! He dropped his shovel. His mouth was hanging open in a slack-jawed smile. Every bit of his attention focused on this bulldozer.

And then--he took off. A bit of a jog for a few steps became a full-out two-year-old sprint, straight toward the park exit and the giant bulldozer lumbering down the street. In the exact opposite direction from where I was standing. For a second, I thought he was just running around the slide to get a better look. Then I realized...he's not stopping. He's not slowing down. He means to chase that bulldozer down the street into the sunset.

I'm so glad a friend was standing with me. She watched Arden while I took off after my racing toddler who had a good 60 foot head start. I was sprinting, sand was flying, I kept calling his name. He kept running, single-minded.

I caught up with him right at the fence, just before he made it out of the park.

He was all innocence, no idea that his terrified mother had just run the length of the park to keep him from harm's way. I was out of breath and emotional, torn between relief and anger.

He just pointed with his chubby little hand, looked at me and said, "There's a bulldozer!"

And it's all we've talked about since.